Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
I’m the favor.
Damn. My existence really was orchestrated. I was born to be a means to an end.
Galene shakes her head quickly, her pretty face distressed. “No, Maven. You were born for far more than that. I could not observe you in the Nether, but I know there were a great many chances for you to give up or act selfishly. There was no certainty that you would do what needed to be done, but look at what you accomplished. Think of all the future human lives you have given a brand new existence to. What I see going forward is so much brighter, thanks to you.”
Ignoring all the pretty words she’s throwing at me, I squint at her. “What did Syntyche get in exchange for getting knocked up by a mortal?”
“Nothing yet. I still owe your mother a great favor of her choosing, whenever she wishes to call it in.”
Still. She basically pimped out the goddess of death to fix her ancient mistake.
How classy.
Galene’s laugh is pure amusement. “No one could ‘pimp’ Syntyche out, I assure you. Though your mother will never admit it, I sensed how deeply she respected Pietro. She was fond of him. Years later, when a noble act nearly took Pietro’s life, he became one of the few mortals whom she has ever pardoned from a true brush with death. He deeply cherished and adored her, even knowing who and what she is. It wasn’t the type of love most know, but it was the nearest thing to it that your mother has ever experienced.”
Her soft, echoed words evaporate along with the surge of memories. I jolt back to myself and quickly realize I’m back inside the oversized hoodie I stashed my to-do list in last. I’m straddling Crypt’s lap, facing him as he holds me in one of the wooden chairs in our quintet apartment kitchen. Just like the bedroom, it’s far less cold everywhere in our quintet apartment.
A sign that Everett’s curse is gone. Everything is slowly thawing.
The others are in here, too. Baelfire is dressed in only shorts as he stirs something on the stove. Silas is carefully combining potion ingredients at the table beside us, and Everett is on the opposite end of the table wearing his adorable-as-fuck reading glasses as he rubs his temple, scowling down at a handwritten letter.
The moment Crypt sees that I’m out of the trance, he grins. “There’s our girl. How was your latest stroll down memory lane, darling?”
I’m still reeling from all the information returned to my brain. Amadeus’s mysterious past, the gods’ limits, how I came to be…
It doesn’t take a mathematician to run the numbers and realize Syntyche must have spared Pietro Amato’s life right after he took a beating for trying to stop Asher Douglas’s father. If there wasn’t such a high chance that Douglas’s father was already dead, I’d consider tracking him down to kill him myself. Maybe I’ll ask the mercenary about it later.
Refocusing on Crypt, I start to answer his question, but my gaze locks onto his neck. There are still light and dark swirls there, but…there used to be more. I noticed it during sex, too. Several markings are missing on his hands, legs, and torso.
I give him a stare-down, speaking only to him telepathically.
Where are the rest of your markings?
He studies me for a moment before kissing my forehead.
Later, love. There’s enough going on as is.
That’s a fucking brush-off if I’ve ever heard one.
We’re interrupted when Baelfire blurs to our side, holding the stirring spoon in one hand and gently tipping my chin up with his other so he can have my attention. Damn, he looks good in a collar. All of his delicious golden muscles are on display as he smiles down at me. There’s no more pain or feral gleam in his molten amber eyes—just the characteristic excitement of my charming match.
“You were out of it for a while. How’re you feeling, Raincloud?”
Honestly? Aside from the memories still settling in my head, I feel incredible. Powerful.
Like I’m theirs again.
With the heart pumping steadily in my emblem-marked chest, I feel stronger, too. The difference is so clear to me now that it’s no wonder I felt like my holy magic was so weak. It was all going toward keeping me alive.
But now that I have my matches back, a heart beats in my chest, we’re bound again, and I’ve fucked them senseless for hours on end…it may be time to address the bad news I’ve been trying like hell not to think about.
It’s only fair to warn them.
I clear my throat. “We may have a problem.”
“What else is new?” Everett deadpans, glancing up from the letter he’s been reading.
“I made a blood oath.”
Silas nods as he discreetly de-stems reverium to add to the potion ingredients. How odd. Is he making something for Crypt? I don’t think my incubus notices.
“We know, sangfluir. The Nether humans are free thanks to that oath.”
“Another one,” I clarify. “I made another blood oath.”
Four heads whip toward me so fast it would be comical if my quintet didn’t look half shocked and half livid.
“What?” Everett sputters, ripping off his reading glasses to give me the full force of his penetrating blue stare. “When? And who the hell did you make the oath to?”
“Arati.”
“What?” they all shout at once as Baelfire accidentally snaps the stirring spoon in half.
Their voices are surprisingly harmonious together, but now probably isn’t the time to mention it when they’re all swearing and reacting so strongly.
“And what exactly did you swear to do this time?” Crypt demands, his violet eyes hard as they search mine.
“If it puts you in danger, I swear on the fucking gods…” Everett trails off dangerously before shoving his seat away from the table and standing to pace.
Silas’s red stare is inescapable as Baelfire tosses aside the broken spoon, all traces of his smile gone. Their angry scrutiny doesn’t budge as the oven timer goes off.
“I don’t remember. Yet,” I add, like that one word is the good news.
“Godsdamn it all, Maven,” Silas sighs, exasperated. “You can’t keep doing this to us.”
“At this point, I’m going to make you make a fucking blood oath to stop making blood oaths,” Baelfire grits, storming back to the oven to turn off the timer.
Their reactions are justified. Considering the hell I’ve put them through, I’m a little surprised they haven’t tried tying me up in one of the rooms to make sure I never step foot outside the door again. But as irritated as I am that I can’t remember what oath I made, I do know one thing.
“Whatever happened in Paradise, I chose you four,” I tell them quietly. “I would never swear an oath that would put you in danger.”
“Us?
You think we’re worried about us?”
Baelfire growls.
He pulls a casserole of some kind out of the oven with his bare hand before slamming the oven door shut and whirling to stalk toward me again. I forgot how impressive Baelfire’s temper is, but…gods. He can be kind of scary when he’s this mad, with blue fire flickering ominously under his tanned skin.
“We’d live for you. We’d die for you. We’re yours
—so do whatever the fuck you want with us. That’s not the problem,” he snaps. “The problem is, you’re too fucking self-sacrificing. You literally went through hell to get humans you didn’t even know out of the Nether. What if your blood oath had to do with getting back here, huh? How much more would you choose to suffer just to return to us?”
“A lot more,” I agree without missing a beat, getting off of Crypt’s lap so I can stand and glare up at my furious, towering shifter better. “You’re right. I would have done anything—
except hurting you four. So whatever price I agreed to pay, it would have been with full intent to stay here with you. It worked, because I’m back and we’re bound and so fucking help me, nothing and no one will stop me from finally enjoying a long, peaceful life with the men I lo?—“
I catch myself and press my lips together.
Shit. I’ve told each of them individually, but saying it out loud in front of my complete, bound quintet is different.
Silas raises his brows, his frustration starting to dissipate as he smirks at me on the other side of the table. “Yes? The men you…?”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.